


99 Ways To Die

by destielisanoof



Series: Band Doodles [2]
Category: Anthrax (US Band), Megadeth, Metallica
Genre: ...i guess, Abuse, Attempt at Humor, Blood, Blood and Injury, Child Abuse, Demons, Drug Use, Falling In Love, Ghosts, Haunted Houses, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Kidnapping, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Near Death Experiences, Past Child Abuse, Reality Bending, Russian Mythology, Spirits, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, Weed, Witchcraft, Yes first tag is weed, kirk/cliff is so cute btw, like lots of them - Freeform, making it up as I go, not to have weed?, shit goes from 0 - to fucking dark and twisted as fuck real fast, this is a metallica fic with cliff what were you expecting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26089780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielisanoof/pseuds/destielisanoof
Summary: Cliff, Scott, Kirk, James, Dave and Junior wake up in a strange old mansion, locked from the inside out. They think it's just a dumb prank, but think otherwise when one of them gets attacked by something that can't be explained.Death is looking for them and they need to find a way to escape before it's too late and they loose someone else.March 1984London, England
Relationships: Cliff Burton/Kirk Hammett, David Ellefson/Dave Mustaine, James Hetfield/Lars Ulrich
Series: Band Doodles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746823
Comments: 26
Kudos: 30





	1. The Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> So I found this interview with Scott Ian where he explains that one time him, Cliff and Kirk got away with having a bag of weed in London and the cops never found it. (Yes it was under Kirk's mattress) and i got this idea to write a supernatural fic in London. 
> 
> I tried to make it as realistic as possible but might end up being cheesy as hell. Oh, did I mention Kliff is my second OTP after destiel?

The minute Cliff slammed the door to the apartment shut Scott knew what was coming for him. He had since they left the police apartment. Cliff’s silence the whole walk back home spoke itself. 

“Hey,” Kirk rushed over to the two from the couch, “they let you guys go?” he asked innocently, fidgeting with his hands. Scott took in that Kirk was literally shaking like a chihuahua. Probably scared to shit when the cops came to sweep the apartment and he was the only one there.

“Yeah, they did. _Thankfully_!” He said, bolding the ‘thankfully’ and glaring at Scott. He scoffed and went to Kirk’s bed and lifted the mattress and pulled out the big bag of weed.

“Wait, what happened?” Kirk asked, looking between Cliff and Scott.

“I wanted to go buy a new fucking Walkman and these three pigs pile out of a pig car, told us ‘you’re under arrest for carrying illegal substances’,” he mocked by making his voice go deeper, “took us down to the station, stripped us both down to our underwear, locked us up in separate cells which were literal fucking concrete! Spend like an hour going through our stuff, came got me out, questioned me where the drugs were while I was still in my fucking underwear, I told them where we were staying. Told me to get dressed, then like...twelve of us drove down here and they swept the whole place for three fucking hours, didn’t find the weed. They took me back, we got Scott and told us to head to the Captain’s office so he can apologize for the false accusations. Then this little shit right here,” he said pointing at Scott, “started yelling at the bastard, called him a pig and prick, cursed his mother, grandmother and aunt, told him to fuck himself and I’m surprised he didn’t tell ‘em the weed was under your mattress,” Cliff explained while rolling up three joints. Kirk just chuckled, happy that they were lucky enough to getaway.

Scott rolled his eyes at Cliff’s statement about him. “Don’t get mad at me! Dude and his cops were fucking bastards and you know that.”

Cliff just shrugged and handed him a joint and the lighter.

“Whatever, at least they didn’t lock us up again.”

“You call Lars and James to let them know what happened?” Scott asked, noticing that Kirk visibly relaxed.

Kirk just shook his head, holding his joint between his two fingers. “No, I tried calling that place they were doing that meet and greet shit but the lady at the front desk said that they had already left like hours ago,” Kirk explained, taking a huff from the joint.

“Probably went to a strip club or something,” Scott commented and went to the bathroom to have a very much needed hot shower.

Cliff was silent for a couple of minutes before he turned to Kirk and chuckled. 

“What?” Kirk asked.

“Nothing, I’m just pissed off,” he said, turning around to find the ashtray.

“I know me too, man. Fucking stereotypical pricks, just because we’re men with long hair doesn’t mean that we’re all stoners. It’s like saying all women with short hair are lesbians,” Kirk complained, taking a big huff out of his joint. (Not a stoner huh?)

“Not mad about that,” Cliff said.

“Then what are you mad about?” Kirk asked with a smirk, knowing damn well that Cliff was going to make some dumb joke.

“I didn’t get my fucking Walkman!” Cliff complained and Kirk wheezed. Cliff rolled his eyes at him and rolled himself another joint. Kirk lit his off and started stripping to go to bed. He kept his tank top and underwear on and rolled under the covers, pushing himself closer to the wall so Scott would have room to bunk with him since there were only two beds and five of them. Three is Lars and James picked up a chick.

After twenty minutes or so Scott finished up in the bathroom and got out, already changed with clean clothes to sleep in. Cliff lit off his fourth, or fifth, joint and grabbed his stuff, heading to the shower. Neither of the three wanted to eat anything, they were all so stressed that they would be sick if they ate anything. 

Scoot looked over at Kirk’s bed, seeing how the smaller man made room for him on his bed. At that Scott softly smiled, thinking that he was too damn lucky to be hanging out with these guys. Yeah, his band at home was fun and all, but Metallica kicked ass! Their bassist kicked ass. So did their guitarist. And their vocalist. And their drum-.

I mean, Lars isn’t the best drummer out there, but dude has a good ear when it comes to music. And is stubborn as hell, which is how Metallica is always able to find the best studios for the best prices. Because Lars threatens and has something against everyone. 

But back to Metallica and Anthrax. I preferred hanging out with these guys than my own band. They just had this thing about them. Something special. Especially Kirk and Cliff. It’s like they were made for one another. The perfect duo. And the three of us were like the perfect trio. I mean look how we dodged a bullet today! The three musketeers! 

Scott thought to himself. 

He was cut out of his trace of though when Kirk spoke up, “Are you going to come and sleep or are you going to stand there like a statue all night?”

“Sorry,” Scott said, “you sure you want me to bunk with you? I can just take the couch,” he suggested and Kirk looked up.

“No, it’s fine. Besides, when I slept on the couch last night my back hurt like shit the whole day. If James and Lars decide to show up at like 3 am let the fuckers have the couch,” Kirk stated, plopping his head back down on the pillow. Scott shrugged and got in bed beside Kirk, closing the lamp on the bedside table beside him. Soon, he and Kirk fell sound asleep, both unaware of their unauthorized spectator.

~~~

Cliff got out the shower, drying his hair off with a towel and slipping on a pair of boxers. He folded his dirty clothes that he could still wear for one day before he started to smell like a toilet and made his way to the shared bedroom. He set his clothes on his suitcase on the side of the bed and made his way to Kirk’s bed. He was fine with bunking with the smaller man, letting Scott have his bed. Poor kid got the couch last night, which is literally a bed of nails. He wasn’t going to admit it, but he liked being around Kirk’s presence a lot. It made him feel as if he was his guardian because of how small Kirk was. It made him feel strong when he was around Kirk because he always felt the need to protect the kid. Not only that, he kinda had the hots for Kirk. 

He got under Kirk’s covers and threw his hand over the smaller man’s waist. Although his hand just fell down on the mattress, and the weight of Kirk he expected beside him wasn’t there. He started to feel around the bed with his arm and noticed he was lying by himself. He turned around to his bed and didn’t see the silhouette of anyone in his bed. Where was Kirk and Scott?

Now he was starting to get worried. “Kirk? Scott?” Cliff called out, getting up and heading to the living room. He didn’t make it to the living room though, because everything blacked out when he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head.


	2. Ghost of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What if-” Scott shivered at the thought of what might be their reality right now, “what if whoever threw us in this place, isn’t trying to keep us and that thing in here, they-they’re trying to keep us out. Like away from the world,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a bit longer, sorry for any grammar errors.
> 
> Also did my fanfic just get pornbotted last chapter?  
> First time for everything I guess lol

Cliff woke up with a pounding sensation on the back of his head. Shit, that hurts like hell, he thought to himself and tried to get up, only to be pushed down by a weight on his chest. He looked down only to be greeted by a mop of hair. Cliff sighed and tried to move again.

“Kirk, hey Kirk. Wake up man,” Cliff said nudging his friend’s head as he sat up, not realizing that Scott had his head on his feet and that he woke him up too. Kirk and Scott groaned, coming out of their sleepy stage. They both massaged the side of their heads, also having massive headaches.

They looked at their surroundings, they were all lying on the floor in their underwear in an old kitchen. Why was it old? Because everything that was wood seemed to be at least 100 years old. There were dust molecules EVERYWHERE and the cold tile floors were...dirty I guess?

“Where the fuck are we?” Scott cursed, sitting up and rubbing his sore back. Sleeping on Cliff’s legs and the cold floor wasn’t comfortable. And by the looks of it Kirk and Cliff didn’t sleep comfortable either. But then again, how long did they sleep for?

“I don’t know. But what I do know is that we should get the fuck out of here,” Cliff said getting up and visibly flinching when he realizes that he has to walk bare foot on that discussing floor. 

“Hey, guys,” Kirk says, grabbing their attention. Behind the island that was barely standing was a pile of clothes and shoes. THEIR pile of clothes and shoes. 

“Good to know where ever brought us here doesn’t want us running around in our underwear,” Scott said, looking through the pile of clothes. They all got dressed, arguing between whose band shirt is whose. 

“Okay, but how the hell did we end up here?” Kirk asked, slipping his leather jacket on because it was freezing in the old house. 

“I don’t...I think we were kidnapped. After I came out of the shower I went to bed, expecting to be bunking with either you or Scott but the bedroom was empty. I went to check where you guys were but I blacked out. Think someone hit me on the back of the head,” Cliff explained, rubbing the back of his head and finding a small bump on his skull. Well, that explains a lot.

“So what the fuck are we waiting for, lets get the hell out before the kidnapper comes back,” Scott whisper yelled, now frantic that the kidnapper might be in the house. Scott was making his way out the kitchen but Cliff stopped him with an arm on his shoulder.

“Scott wait,” Cliff said, “this could be a prank by James and Lars for all we know,”

“No, I don’t think it is,” Kirk spoke up and Cliff and Scott stared at him, “I mean, think about it. James and Lars are just two men, yeah James is 6’0 but they wouldn’t have been able to carry the three of us, especially Cliff, out of the apartment, into our van and wherever we are now. Not without drawing themselves too much attention. Also, does this look like a place James and Lars would have brought us to?”

Cliff and Scott thought about Kirk’s statements for a minute. James and Lars wouldn’t have been able to pull this off by themselves. Unless they had someone to help them.

“Maybe someone helped them bring us here,” Cliff suggested but Scott shook his head.

“No, I mean it’s just the five of us here in London. I’m the only one who came here from Anthrax and we don’t know anyone other than our managers,” Scott said and the three men fell in silence, trying to figure out how they ended up in this place. 

“So if this isn’t a dumb prank by James and Lars, who would want to bring us here?” Kirk asked and it really got the boys thinking. What were the chances of them getting kidnapped while touring in London? Not only that, but who would want to bring them here? Of all places, why here? Was this some sort of sick prank by a stranger?

Cliff shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. “I don’t know how are why we’re here, but one thing I do know is that we’re getting the fuck out of this place,” Cliff said, making his way out the kitchen and into the living room.

When the three of them walked into the living room their breaths were taken away. The place was huge. There was a pair of two staircases along the ends of each hall which lead upstairs, which also had a massive hallway with hundreds of framed photos of what seemed to be kings and queens. There was a huge rusty chandelier hanging in the middle of the living room, which could also be the lobby of the house. There were drawings on the ceiling and sculpted designs on the walls. Even if everything was molding and rusting away, the house still had a beauty in it.

“Don’t!” Kirk snapped at Scott who stopped dead in his tracks, “Don’t walk under the chandelier. That thing could fall any minute!”

Scott nodded and listened to Kirk, walking behind him and Cliff all the way to the front door. The double front doors were also huge, obviously barely holding up because of how old the wood looked.

Cliff tugged on the door handles and the door didn’t open. He pulled the handles and again, it didn’t open. He pushed them and again nothing happened. Okay, maybe it’s a little stronger than I thought it was, Cliff thought to himself. 

He leaned his body up against the door and pushed. And again, it didn’t budge. Scratch that about the door being able to barely hold up because it was heavy as steel.

Cliff backed away a couple of meters from the door and ran at it, tackling it with his side. When it didn’t work once, he tried again. And again. And again. 

Kirk and Scott watched Cliff pathetically body check the door and still do absolutely nothing. If the front door couldn’t open, then that must mean whoever brought them here doesn’t want them to leave. 

“Cliff,” Kirk said, trying to stop him from body checking the door. But Cliff didn’t listen. “Cliff! Stop!” Kirk yelled and grabbed the bassist by the arm before he rammed into the door like a bull again. 

Cliff snapped his head at Kirk and glared down at the smaller man. “What?” he asked out of breath.

“Stop! That door wont open and you ramming into it like a madman wont open it. It could be locked from the outside. We’ll find another way out,” Kirk said looking at Scott for reassurance. Scott nodded, and the three headed down the right hall to look for any windows or back doors.

After a minute or so of checking rooms for any windows or back doors there was a loud thud that echoed through the old house. The three got outside in the hall to find where the noise came from. It sounded like a door was slammed shut. 

Another loud slamming noise erupted behind them. A lot more actually. They snapped their heads around behind them and there it was. A giant cloud of grey smoke coming straight at them. The sound of doors slamming shut rang through the whole house as the grey smoke was coming straight at them.

Kirk and Scott practically shit their pants was they watched the mysterious smoke come straight at them, destroying everything in its way. Cliff grabbed the two guitarists from the hand and shoved the three of them in a small room. He slammed the door shut and stood the hell away from it. 

They all stood quietly as they listened to the door rattle as the smoke went right past them. The sound of doors slamming and the smoke rattling through the house echoed away from them. 

Cliff, Kirk and Scott just stood there, trying to figure out what the hell that was. 

“What the fuck was that?” Kirk cursed, shaking like a fish out of water.

“I don’t know,” Cliff replied, still eyeing the door carefully in case something crazy might happen again. “But...I think we’re safe from whatever that thing was,” Cliff reassured and turned around to examine the room they were in.

“For now,” Scott muttered and looked around their surroundings. 

They looked around the room. It looked like it was a very small library or office, judging by the huge bookshelf and office on the side of the room. There were also two small couches in front of the office.

Scott went to the small window in the corner of the room and unlocked the safety lock and pulled the ledge up for the window to open. As expected the window didn’t open. 

“Anything?” asked Cliff from behind the old desk. He was going through the old books and notes on the desk. Most of them seemed to be in different languages. Cliff guessed it was Latin because some of it looked familiar from the one Latin class he took in high school. 

“No,” Scott said looking out the dirty window and onto the outside ledge. “Shit! It’s bolted shut from the outside. And probably every other window in this damned place,” Scott cursed and turned around to Kirk and Cliff who both had their noses buried into a book. 

“Are we here to find a way out or have a reading session?” Scott snapped, putting his hands on his hips sassily. He couldn’t believe this, they’ve been kidnapped, and locked inside a fucking ancient mansion with no way out.

“No, but this might help figure out where we are or who brought us here.” Cliff explained looking between letters on the desk. Kirk had his nose buried in a thick brown book with strange gold writing on the outside cover. 

“Most of these books on the bookshelf are religious,” Kirk spoke up and switched the book out with another one.

“So?” Scott asked, confused with what this had to do with their situation. 

“So, these aren’t just Bible books or stories. These shit is dark, like they’re in detail about Hell, Satan, Lucifer, demons, angels, sacrifices and shit like that,” Kirk explained, flipping through the book. 

“So basically whoever lived here was either a Bible freak or a Satanist?” Scott said. This still had nothing to do with the fact they were kidnapped.

Kirk shook his head and looked up at Scott. “Maybe, I’m not sure. Maybe this person was trying to do something...spiritual, I guess you could call it. I mean, all these books are about how to summon, or what these _things_ in here are. Most of these are in either English, Latin, German or Italian, but judging by the ‘personal’ notes on the pages, it seems like someone was trying to summon or call something,” Kirk said the last part slower, looking at Cliff and Scott with horror in his eyes.

“Like that smoke we saw,” Cliff whispered. He eyed Kirk and Scott and the same thought passed through their heads.

“What if-” Scott shivered at the thought of what might be their reality right now, “what if whoever threw us in this place, isn’t trying to keep us and that thing in here, they-they’re trying to keep us out. Like away from the world,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cliff hanger ooh!
> 
> (see what i did there?)


	3. Tragedy and Triumph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliff felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The room was too small and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen in his lungs. He felt light headed and as if he was about to throw up. That body had been there for nearly six years. Maybe less. They were fucked. They were going to die. Someone was kidnapping and killing people in the house he, Kirk and Scott were locked inside. 
> 
> He was knocked out of his trance of thought when a scream filled the air and echoed through the house. Cliff shoved the watch in his coat pocket and ran back to the lobby of the house. The house went silent again as the scream echoed away. He ran into Scott who also heard it and had the same frantic look as him. 
> 
> Cliff snapped his head towards the dark hall he sent Kirk, expecting to see the brunette run towards him and Scott but he didn’t. 
> 
> “Kirk!” Scott yelled and ran down the hall with Cliff on his heels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally an update bitches
> 
> enjoy

At Scott’s statement Cliff shook his head, “No, that’s impossible. This-this whole supernatural ghost-demon thing isn’t real. That stuff doesn’t exist, the guy who lived here, centuries ago, was probably a Bible or Satanist freak and this is just a prank. A prank that was executed really, really, REALLY well, most likely by our dumb friends..”

Kirk slammed the book closed and glared at the ground. His theory worked out pretty well, and that smoke wasn’t normal nor man made and he knew that Cliff knew that. Something wrong was going on here, very wrong, and Cliff was playing it cool as if they almost didn't get consumed by a giant grey smoke which tore up everything in its way.  
  
“Okay, but what about the smoke and slamming doors?” Kirk challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Cliff looked up from the notes he was going through and glared up at Kirk. He stood up straight and looked the kid up and down, signing in annoyance. Don’t get him wrong, he loved Kirk and everything about his horror freakishness, but sometimes it got too much to handle. Too much to handle Kirk’s crazy imagination. 

“For the smoke they just used that weird effect like Maiden does on their shows. And to move it someone put up a bunch of fans,” Cliff explained but Kirk still shook his head.

“But what about the sound of the machine and fans? Shouldn’t we have heard that?”

“The sound of the slamming doors covered it up,” Cliff explained with a happy little grin.

“But how would they have slammed by themselves?” Kirk asked, his tone sassy. 

_He really isn’t going to drop this is he?_ Cliff thought to himself.

Scott just sat back and listened to the two argue whether or not something supernatural was going on. The two were acting like children but he was trying to believe Cliff that this was just a really good prank, but something felt off. It felt as if there was something else going on. 

“That’s easy, rope or any string that is clear or just really blends in with the colour of the walls and a couple of pulleys,” Cliff said and his smirk got even wider when Kirk seemed to have no more responses. 

“But-”

“Kirk,”

“No, but-”

“Kirk!” Cliff cut his off this time a bit louder. 

Kirk’s face dropped and Cliff sighed. Great now I hurt his feelings, he said to himself.

“Look man, I know how much you love this horror and monster stuff. I love it too. But it’s not real man. Nothing paranormal or supernatural is going on in here. This could just be a really messed up prank or we could actually be in trouble,” Cliff stated in a more friendly tone. 

Kirk lifted his head and let out a defeated sigh. “Okay, you’re right. So whoever was out there should be gone by now,” Kirk said switching the subject. He could feel that something awful wrong was going on in this house and Cliff was ignoring IT and him.

Cliff cleared his throat and walked around the office desk and between Kirk and Scott. “Alright, so I say we all split up, try to find any sort of exit and if we find anything just...yell,” Cliff instructed and headed for the door.

“Wait, wait. What if someone is still out there. If we’re alone and whoever is out there jumps one of us, what the hell are we supposed to do?” Scott asked. 

At Scott's statement Cliff pressed his lips together and thought for a quick second. The guitarist was right, if they split up they would have nothing to defend themselves. Cliff’s eyes searched the small room. He looked around and his eyes landed on a musket that was hanging on a frame on the wall above the small office. Cliff went behind the desk and took the gun off of the frame. 

Kirk and Scott watched with their eyes wide. Neither of them were familiar with guns, except Kirk who held and shot a bunny once with his grandpa when he was like seven. But none of them expected Cliff to grab a gun so they could defend themselves. 

“Oh great! So you’re going to shoot Casper the Friendly ghost?” Scott sassed as Cliff looked into the barrel. 

“No, there’s no gunpowder,” Cliff clarified, meaning the gun won't work if you fired it. “But it’s like a bat, if there’s a threat just swing it at someone,” he said, rubbing his finger against the point of the bayonet. It was sharp, sharp enough to go through someone’s bones if Cliff put enough strength into it. 

“Okay, uhmm. Here, Kirk,” Scott called out, handing Kirk an old crow bar as he took a metal baseball bat from the umbrella stand in the corner of the room. They were both old and rusty but would do their job.

Scott opened the door and went out to the hall. Kirk and Cliff took small cautious steps behind him. The three stood still for two minutes out in the open hall, listening to the silence. 

Cliff nodded and started heading away from Kirk and Scott, heading towards the front of the house. The two followed closely behind him and came to a halt in the centre of the living room. They all looked around, not seeing a sigh of anyone other than them.

“Okay, Kirk, you take the right hall, Scott will keep going through the left and I’ll take the back,” Cliff ordered and Scott started heading back from where they came from, going into the rooms to check the windows or doors they haven’t checked yet.

Cliff started heading down the back hall when something pulled him back from the sleeve of his denim jacket. He turned around to see Kirk holding him back. The small brunette had fear written all over his face and he looked like he had just seen a ghost. 

“What? Something wrong?” Cliff whispered, making sure Scott didn’t hear them. It might have been a big house, but there was a bloody loud echo. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to split up, we don’t know who’s out there. We don’t even know if we’re actually in real trouble or if this is a prank. It’s not a good idea,” Kirk whispered back. His voice sounded on edge and his hands were slightly shaking, wrapped tightly around the old crowbar. 

Cliff sighed and put a hand on Kirk’s shoulder and squeezed it tightly, feeling how tense the smaller man was. “Calm down okay? Scott and I are literally going to be down the hall. We’re not leaving you alone in the house or something silly. I know how much you want to get the hell out of this place, so do I. By splitting up we’ll cover more ground and find an exit sooner. If you want you can come with me,” Cliff suggested. To be honest, he wouldn’t mind spending time with Kirk in a ‘haunted’ house. Kinda cheesy and cliché for his taste but he lives for the thrill. 

Kirk shrugged and shook his head, he didn’t want to feel like a burden or a baby so he said, “No, it’s fine. I’ll go alone to ‘explore’ my section of the house,” with a chuckle and turned around, heading down the dark hallway. This side of the house was a lot darker. All the doors were closed and there were no windows like there were on the other hall he was with Scott and Cliff. There were dust molecules everywhere and mold was taking over every surface of that part of the house.

Now he regrets not going with Cliff. He gripped the crow bar tighter, tight enough to make his knuckles go white and turned back around to go with Cliff. Only problem was that Cliff was already gone and he was already too scared to go search for him. 

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, gathered all the courage he had and slowly headed down the dark hallway. 

Cliff watched Kirk stalk away from him and into the hall. He chuckled and headed behind the staircase to the back hall of the house. He got a closer look at it, they surely wouldn’t be able to go up the stairs. The wood looked like it was barely holding itself together and there were pieces of the steps missing or broken. Well that was a no. 

Cliff found his way back into the kitchen they woke up in, now feeling his stomach rumbling. He was starving, and probably so where the rest of the guys. He set the musket down on the counter and went through every cabinet. Most of them were filled with ceramic plates and rusty pots. He found some pasta that had turned brown because of how old it was. Cliff threw it back into the cabinet and slammed it shut, nearly vomiting at the sigh of it. 

He picked up the musket and headed down the smaller hall. The place was slowly falling apart, mold and rust taking over every wall, ceiling, floor and furniture. To be honest, Cliff kinda felt bad for this place. Years ago it would have looked magnificent while it was in good condition, it’s a shame no one cared enough for a place like this. 

He reached the second door down the hall, opened it and went inside. He looked around the room and gasped. Cliff gripped the musket tight and brought it up close to his chest, just in case. Taking small steps inside, he found himself in the middle of the room. His breath was caught in his throat and he looked around the room. 

It smelled like a mix of a boys locker room and a fridge that hasn’t been cleaned for years. The room was made of cement and there were chains hanging from hooks on the ceiling. More hooks were on the ground and some chains attached to them. Beside Cliff was a metal table with wheels that was full of tools. Torture tools. 

One that caught his attention was a pair of handcuffs that had strange writing and symbols on it. Symbols like pentagrams. 

And there was blood. A lot of blood. On the floor, walls, chains, on the tools, everywhere. Cliff’s throat suddenly felt too tight for him to breathe and the room was closing in on him. Kirk and Scott were right, there was something wrong about this place. Now he was doubting this was a prank because holy shit no one puts time into making a torture chamber. 

He looked around at the furniture in the room. There weren’t much, only two wooden chairs, a steel bed and a bathtub, which were all covered in blood, rust and mold. Cliff moved closer to the bathtub to get a look at what was inside.

“Holy shit!” He nearly screamed and stumbled back. He put his hand up against his nose to stop the smell of the rotting corpse to enter his lungs. Stumbling back towards the corpse to get a closer look at it he gasped. The flesh had almost been decomposed and left some sort of dust behind that filled about one centimetre of the bloody bathtub. Most of the clothes were still decomposing. Cliff knew that clothes took between 40-200 years to decompose fully (depending on the material), so that meant the body isn’t as old as the house. 

Cliff knelt beside the tub so he could get a closer look at the body. There was a pair of chains wrapped around the body’s wrists. He was now getting more and more paranoid that something really messed up was going on. 

This couldn’t be a prank. No one with a right mind would put so much effort into scaring the crap out of three randoms guys. Not only that, Cliff was convinced that the body was real. Everything Kirk and Scott said could be true. Maybe they were dealing with some crazy serial killer or some Satanist/Bible freak. 

He needed to find Kirk and Scott, he shouldn’t have let them go anywhere alone. He stood up and started heading back but stopped when something shiny caught his eye. On the skeleton’s right wrist there was a silver watch. Using the bayonet from the musket, he took it off of the corpse and put it onto his palm. 

Getting a closer look at it, the watch was made of gold and it had a picture of the Empire State Building and some writing below it. Cliff chuckled, ironic how an American souvenir made its way to an English man who has been dead for hundreds of years. He focused his eyes closer to the writing below the building and when he could make it out his whole body stiffened. 

The watch said ‘New Years Eve, New York, 1977’. 

Cliff felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The room was too small and he wasn’t getting enough oxygen in his lungs. He felt light headed and as if he was about to throw up. That body had been there for nearly a year. Maybe less. They were fucked. They were going to die. Someone was kidnapping and killing people in the house he, Kirk and Scott were locked inside. 

He was knocked out of his trance of thought when a scream filled the air and echoed through the house. Cliff shoved the watch in his coat pocket and ran back to the lobby of the house. The house went silent again as the scream echoed away. He ran into Scott who also heard it and had the same frantic look as him. 

Cliff snapped his head towards the hall he sent Kirk, expecting to see the brunette but he didn’t. 

“Krik!” Scott yelled and ran down the hall with Cliff on his heels. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit that was nearly 2,500 words. another Cliff-hanger (i'm attempting humour)
> 
> next chapter we'll see James, Dave and Junior when I get the motivation to write it.


	4. Something Wicked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cliff turned back to Kirk, with shaky hands bracing the needle on top on the vein of Kirk’s left forearm. He gently held Kirk’s wrist with one hand, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Kirk’s hand, trying to reassure both of them. He flashed Kirk a small sad smile before he pierced the smaller man’s skin with the needle and slowly injected the substance into his body. Kirk let out a choked up moan, surprised by the sharp pain on his forearm. But that pain went quickly away as he fell into unconsciousness, his head rolling limply to the side.

Cliff ran down the hall but came to a halt when he could barely see in front of him. The hallway was pitch black, save for some light seeping through the closed doors on the left side of the hall. There was a thick smell of copper and iron floating through the air, which was most likely blood and rusty. Cliff reached in front of him and grabbed Scott by the bicep and pulled him towards himself. He pushed the smaller man behind him, making sure that if there was a threat he could protect Scott without having to worry about him running off. 

“Stay right behind me,” Cliff ordered, taking small cautious steps forward. He felt Scott nod behind him. 

He squinted his eyes in the dark, trying to get them to adjust in the darkness. He looked around and a silhouette of a small body with curly hair sitting up against the wall came into view. Cliff pushed the musket up against his chest, just in case it jumped at them. 

“Kirk?” Cliff spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the figure.

A choked sob came for it before it spoke up. “Cl-Cliff?” 

Cliff released his tight grip on the musket and ran to Kirk’s side kneeling beside him. Cliff could feel Kirk shaking like a fish out of water when he put his arm on the smaller man's shoulder. 

“Okay Kirk, calm down. We’re right here okay,” He soothed, trying to get Kirk to stop sobbing. He set the musket down and looked around his pockets for a lighter. He found one with his pack of cigarettes and lit it on. The small lighter didn’t produce much light, but it was enough for Cliff and Scott to be able to get a glimpse of Kirk. The burnett's face was stained with tears that were still running down his cheeks. There was a small cut just above his left eyebrow, making a drop of blood run down the side of his face. 

Scott sat beside Kirk’s other side, grabbing his hand and holding it tight, trying to calm him down.

Cliff cupped the side of the brunette's face, turning his head towards him so he could make eye contact with him. Kirk seemed to be in his own little world, his head in too much shock. Whatever he saw must have scarred the shit out of him. This must have had something to do with the body. It had to. This meant they were in danger. Just down the hall was a torture room with a dead body and just now someone jumped Kirk. Now Cliff regrets not listening to Kirk about something messed up going on in this place. He shouldn’t have let him and Scott go off alone. 

“Hey, hey, Kirk,” Cliff consoled, “Kirk, look at me,” Kirk slowly turned his head around, finally making eye contact with Cliff and relaxing a little. Kirk’s eyes were red and puffy from crying, some tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

“Tell us what happened,” Cliff knew Kirk wasn’t in any right state of mind to tell him properly what happened, he was too spooked. Not only that, Scott was also scared out of his mind, and you could tell by looking at his whole body trembling. He needed to get them both out of their panicked state. If they wanted to get out of this place in one piece, they had to be collective and calm, not let fear take over them. 

Kirk choked back a sob, stumbling over his own words before he managed to say, “M-my leg,”

Cliff lowered the lighter so he’ll be able to see Kirk’s legs better so he could figure out what he was trying to tell him. 

“Holy fuck!” Scott cursed, snapping his head back up at Kirk. Cliff gasped at the sigh of Kirk’s left leg. Kirk wasn’t crying his ass out because he was scared, he was probably dying from pain. 

His crowbar was stabbed through the side of his calve, right behind the bone on his right leg. The straight claw was dripping with blood, a piece of Kirk’s flesh was stuck on the tip of the short claw. His whole pant leg below the stab wound was soaked in blood, slowly dripping onto Kirk’s shoe. 

Cliff was trembling, feeling sick to his stomach. He didn’t know what to do and what was happening. Who would want to do this? Who would want to kidnap them and bring them to this place to kill them? Now Cliff knew that this wasn’t just a dumb prank. They were in deep danger. Whoever brought them here probably has the intentions to hurt or kill them. At least that’s what hints Cliff could read from the dead body in a fucking torture chamber.

“Cliff!” Scott snapped at him. 

“What?” 

“Kirk’s gonna bleed out and die! Do something or he’ll die!” Scott snapped at him like a maniac. Cliff looked back down at Kirk’s leg, putting the lighter a little closer so he could get a better look. He needed to stop the bleeding. Cliff looked around his pockets, trying to find that bandana he had on his to wrap it around Kirk’s calf. 

Before he could pull it out, Scott grabbed his hand and pulled it, urging him to stop. “We’re not alone,” Scott whispered. 

Cliff looked up to where Scott was looking and surprise surprise, there was someone standing at the end of the hall, just looking at them. Cliff swallowed, feeling his stomach twist. Something was wrong. Suddenly the sound of chains hitting against each other filled the air, the eerie sound echoing through the house. 

The person started moving towards them, slowly. Kirk whipped his head around to take a look at the person slowly moving towards them and let out a gnarly scream. 

“No! Nononono! We’re gonna die! It’s going to kill us!” Kirk sobbed over and over again. 

If that wasn’t a sign for them to start running, Cliff didn’t know what was. He showed the musket at Scott’s chest and grabbed Kirk, holding him bridal style. Cliff quickly stood up, yelling at Scott to run. 

Without being told a second time, Scott held the musket in one hand and the baseball bat in the other and sprinted down the hall, passing past Cliff who was carrying Kirk. 

Cliff watched as Scott passed in front of him and Kirk. Cliff tried picking up his legs faster, but it was hard while carrying Kirk and making sure he didn’t hurt his leg even more. 

Kirk had his face buried in Cliff’s chest, his fists tight around the fabric of Cliff’s shirt as he sobbed non stop. Whispering ‘We’re gonna die’ over and over again.

Cliff looked over his shoulder, seeing that the person that attacked Kirk was now chasing them. The hallway was still dark and Cliff couldn’t make out a face, but the person had a pair of long horns on the top of his head. A cold chill ran up Cliff’s spine and he started running faster, trying to catch up with Scott. 

They found themselves in the main hall, looking around for a place to run and hide. Cliff had the idea to go and hide in the huge cabinets in the kitchen. It’s the only option they had. He nudged Scott and they started running towards the kitchen, Cliff taking the lead. 

A sharp pain flew from Cliff’s chest through his whole body knocking him to the ground and sending Kirk flying out of his grasp. The wind was knocked out of him as he hit the ground, his head ringing as he bangs in on the floor. 

He looked around dizzily, eyes focusing on the mop of ginger hair that laid beside him. And the irritating voice that went along with the hair.

“Dave!?” Cliff gasped, rubbing the back of his head. 

The ginger sat up, looking Cliff up and down. “Cliff?” he said, rubbing the side of his forehead. He must have bumped into Dave while turning the corner, Cliff guessed.

“What the fuck are you guys doing here?” James cursed, turning Cliff’s and Scott’s attention over towards him. 

Scott narrowed his eyes and glared at the blonde, helping Cliff get up. “James? Where the fuck have you been? Where the hell is Lars?”  
  
“I don’t know, how did you guys get here?” James asked, looking between Cliff and Scott. 

“I don’t know, we just woke up here in the kitchen,” Scott said, both him and Cliff forgetting completely about the thing that was chasing them. 

“Guys!” Junior called out from the other side of the hall where the four men were standing. He was kneeling beside Kirk, who was on his side, back facing the other guys and sobbing uncontrollably. Junior had already wrapped his scarf around the grow bar where Kirk’s wound was but he was bleeding right through it. 

Cliff ran by Kirk’s side, slowly turning the small brunette on his back.

Cliff cupped the side of Kirk’s face, urging the smaller man to look at him. “Hey, hey. You’ll be okay, alright? Sorry I dropped you, we’re just gonna find a safe place to sit at and I’ll fix your leg, okay?” Cliff soothed, getting a better look at Kirk’s leg now that there was more light. Holding a gag back, Cliff unwrapped the bloody scarf and folded it in two, wrapping it again around Kirk’s wounds tighter and in a better angle to help stop the bleeding. 

His head was running a hundred miles, watching as the blood went right through the scarf. He needed to cut the blood circulation. Cliff unbuckled his belt and nearly ripped the loops out as he wanked and pulled it out as fast as he could. He quickly wrapped it right below Kirk’s knee, tying it off as tight as he could. 

Another fear struck through Cliff, what if Kirk couldn’t feel his leg? What if the crowbar did serious damage and he can’t move or feel his leg?

“Kirk. Okay, I need you to tell me if you can feel me touching your leg. Okay?” Cliff asked, panic in his voice. Kirk only managed to nod, trying to hold back his sobs. 

Dave, James, Junior and Scott stared at Kirk’s leg, all four watching as small drops of blood pooled under Kirk’s leg. 

Dave, James and Junior knew they were in trouble, they knew something fucked up was going on when they found the body and dungeon down the hall. But this? One of their own actually getting attacked by someone who stuck a fucking crowbar through his leg? That was insane, whoever brought them here was insane.

“Do you feel anything now?” Cliff asked, wrapping his hand around Kirk’s right ankle.

Kirk only managed to nod, a couple of tears dripping down his neck and disappearing into the hem of his shirt. 

“I need you to tell me where you feel my hand,” Cliff stated, frowning when Kirk let out a small choked up cry as he tried to speak.

“O-on my-m-my-ahh! On my an-ankle,” Kirk gasped, prompting himself up on his elbows, trying to see his leg. 

Cliff sighed in relief. “Okay, we need to get him out of here and get that thing out as soon as possible,” he said, pulling Kirk close to him. Slipping one hand under his knees and another behind his back, Cliff made a move to stand up but stopped when he looked at what was in front of him. 

Cliff froze, his whole body stiffening. He wasn’t the only one who sat it. The rest of the guys did too, standing there frozen as they looked at it up and down. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening. This was straight out of a horror movie, straight out of a child’s nightmare. 

They all looked the beast up and down. They guessed they should call it a beast, because that wasn’t a human in a costume. 

The thing’s body was human, but had the head of a goat. It had fiery red hooded eyes and the horns on its head were about half a meter long. It wasn’t the size of a normal human. No, it was around 8 to 9 feet tall. Instead of hands and legs, the beast had cloven hooves, it’s whole body covered in black fur. There was a chain wrapped loosely around its neck, one of the ends of the chains hanging in front of its chest. On each hand, the beast held a pair of long chains that pilled beneath it on the floor, each one covered in blood. In the middle of it’s chest there was a stab wound, a fresh stab wound that went right through its chest.

All five men looked at the beast that was standing meters away from them. None of them moving. Too scared to move. The only one that hadn’t noticed about the thing standing in front of them was Kirk, who was quietly sobbing into Cliff’s chest. 

No one dared make a move, not them and not the beast, they all stood there and looked at each other back and forth for what felt like hours. It was like they were all waiting for each other to make a move but none of them did. That was until Kirk looked up and turned around to see where everyone was looking and why they hadn’t moved.

Kirk made eye contact with the beast and it looked down at Kirk, snapping it’s head in his direction. The movement might have been small, but it managed to make all of them flinch. 

The beast raised one of its hands and thrashed the chain he was holding. Kirk, remembering the movement, let out a gnarly scream and thrashed around in Cliff’s embrace.

The second the beast took a step forward, Dave grabbed Cliff’s shoulder and pulled the man up, grabbing Junior from the back of the shirt and sprinting down the back hall like a madman. Cliff, James, Junior and Scott followed behind squeezing behind Dave as the hall became smaller and smaller. It was the way James, Dave and Junior came from after they heard Kirk’s scream. 

Dave opened a little door that led to an even smaller room. He led everyone inside, slamming the door shut after Scott ran inside. The beast was still chasing them, but it wasn’t running. They couldn’t see it anymore, but they could hear the rattling of the chains thrashing around. The sound was getting closer and closer. 

All of their hearts were slamming against their rib cages. All they could think of was how they were going to die in this house at the hands of a monster. Scott handed the musket to James, who took it and griped it tightly, pointing it at the door in case that thing decided to come through the door. 

”We need to get upstairs,” Junior whispered to Dave. Dave nodded, walking towards the steel ladder.

“This way,” he whispered to Scott and Cliff. Dave went up the old rusty ladder, Scott following behind him. Cliff gently put Kirk over his right shoulder, being careful not to disturb the guitarists leg even more. Junior and then James followed behind them. 

The ladder led to a library on the second floor, which kinda took Cliff’s breath away. 

The library was huge. Maybe bigger than the lobby of the mansion. There were books everywhere, stacked on hundreds of bookshelves. 

Dave and Junior walked them inside a small reading room in the library. There was a table with a bunch of books in the middle of the room, surrounded by 4 chairs. There was an old couch and a fireplace on the side towards the entrance. They both seemed used, maybe Jams, Dave and Junior used them, Cliff guessed. There were two small bookshelves and two whole rows of books missing. The guys must have burned them to light the fireplace in order to keep warm, Cliff guessed again. 

James shoved off a bunch of books that were on the table, making room for Cliff to lay Kirk on it. 

“Okay, what do you need?” Junior asked, rushing to Cliff’s side.

“Uh, I need alcohol so I can disinfect his leg. Any sort of needle and thread, fishing hook can also do, and a lot of towels or cloths or something to stop the bleeding. A lighter too,” Cliff ordered and Scott, Dave and Junior scrambled around, looking for the things Cliff told them to get. James went over to one of the offices and grabbed a lantern. There was already oil inside, probably preserved in the glass tub all these years. James fished out his lighter and lit up the small string on the bottom, adjusting the knobs before the lantern lit up the small room in the library. James sets the lantern beside Kirk’s side on the table, providing enough light for Cliff to get Kirk’s stitches done after Cliff pulls the crowbar out of Kirk's leg. Right now Cliff was working on cutting Kirk’s pants off his right leg with the bayonet. 

James looked at the small brunette, watching as he squirmed and sobbed from the pain, tilting his head to the side to look up at James with red and puffy eyes. 

“Hey, how ya feeling?” James asked, holding Kirk’s shoulder tight.

“I...hm-bad. Everything hurts,” Kirk replied, his chest rising and falling rapidly, trying to get his breathing back to normal. 

“I know. But hey, you’ll be fine. Doctor Cliff will fix your leg up and before you know it you’ll be running marathons,” the blonde jokes and flashed Kirk a smile. 

Looking over his shoulder to get a look at Kirk’s leg, James had to hold back a gag. Cliff had successfully cut off the part of Kirk’s pants where the crowbar was in his leg, his right pant leg going up to his knee. The extra part of the jeans Cliff cut off was right beside him, the fabric soaked with blood. Cliff’s hands were covered in blood all the way to his wrists, the edges of Cliff’s sleeves stained with blood. Junior’s scarf wasn’t stopping any of the bleeding, so Cliff had his fingers circled around where the crowbar and Kirk’s flesh met, applying pressure to limit the bleeding.

James forced himself to look away from the sight, looking up at Cliff who had unshed tears in his eyes. James’ stomach went uneasy, seeing that Cliff, the only one who could help fix Kirk’s leg, looked like he was about to pass out any second. 

The blonde flashed a concerned look at his bassist, cleaning his throat to grab his attention. Cliff snapped his head up, blinking his tears away and shaking his head.

“Yeah, James’ right. I’ll fix your leg up in no time. Okay?” Cliff said more to himself.   
Kirk just nodded, letting his head fall back against the table and trying to relax as much as possible. 

“Will I die?” Kirk spoke up, looking Cliff dead in the eye. 

James watched Cliff’s face go through a change of different emotions. Switching between fear and sadness. 

“No, you’ll be fine, I promise,” Cliff swore. James frowned, feeling as if Cliff was lying to Kirk.

“Hey,” Junior announced themselves, walking back into the small room. Dave and Junior were each holding three bottles full of alcohol in each hand and Scott was holding a bunch of old towels and a small gray box that must have been a med kit. 

“What’d you guys find?” James asked, helping Scott set the towels down. 

“There’s a room down the hall, was full of booze and there was a med kit too. Grabbed that, went to the closet and grabbed some old ass towels too. There should be a needle and thread in there I hope.” Dave explained. 

Cliff nodded, “Okay, someone open the med kit and check if there is a needle and thread. Also if there’s gauze that we can use.” 

Junior grabbed the kit and opened it, struggling a bit because it started to rust on the edges thus making it harder to open. He went through it, finding a sewing needle and thread. The gauze had practically turned to dust throughout all the years. There was also an old steel thermometer and three brown bottles of some medicine. 

Dave grabbed one from Junior, opening the bottle and smelling it. The ginger gagged at the smell, closing the bottle back up. 

“What’s that?” Scott asked, setting the towels up.

“Cocaine. Liquid coke in a bottle basically. Suggestion; we give the princess some of this stuff, get him all giggly, and then pull the crow bar out,” Dave suggested, setting the bottle beside Kirk’s head and picking up a needle that was in the medkit. 

“That way Kirk will barely feel anything and wont be in the pain he is right now,” Scott finished off for Dave.

“No!” Cliff shook his head, glaring up at Dave. “We drug him, he dies. Kirk’s lost a lot of blood, his system is already weak, none of us have eaten or drank anything for hours and he’s in shock from the...attack. If we pump cocaine through his veins it wont numb him it will kill him.” Cliff snapped, sending a dirty look at Dave. 

Dave frowned, “Okay, sorry. I’m just trying to help, you don’t have to be a dick about everything!”

“Would you stop?! You want to argue about who’s a bigger dick we’ll do it after. For fucks sake Kirk could d-” Cliff stopped himself before saying even more. He looked down at Kirk who had tears running down his face, looking up at Cliff with doubt. “Let’s just fix up Kirk’s leg and then you can throw a bitch fit,” he sassed, lowering his tone this time. 

Cliff looked over at Junior trying to think of what to do next.

“What alcohol is there?” He asked, nodding at the booze on the table.

“Uhm...mostly wine, but I think this is gin,” Dave said, picking up the bottle and reaching it out to Cliff.

“Great. Junior, open it and disinfect your hands, I’ll need you to help. The rest of you hold him down,” Cliff ordered and the guys did as told. Junior popped the bottle open and poured some of the gin over his hands, disinfecting them as best as possible. Scott went around to Kirk’s right side, grabbing one of his hands and holding down his hip. James mirrored him on Kirk’s left side, but then remembered Kirk’s good leg. 

James folded Kirk’s knee, wrapping one around his good leg and the other resting at the edge of the table. Dave went at the end of the table, setting Kirk’s head down and pushing it up against his tummy. The ginger set one arm on each one of Kirk’s shoulders, pushing him down when he tried to sit up. 

“Just lay down and try to relax, ‘kay princess?” Dave ordered, flashing Kirk a small smile before looking up at Cliff.

Cliff was now taking his denim jacket off to prevent staining it even more. Junior was holding the scarf to apply pressure, his hands already soaked with blood. Cliff rinsed his hands with the gin, wiping some of the blood off on one of the towels. He passes the thread through the head of the needle and disinfects it with the lighter. 

“Okay, let go,” he told Junior. Junior did so, unwrapping the bloody scarf from Kirk's calve. The second the pressure was gone, blood pooled beneath Kirk’s leg like a waterfall. 

“Okay, we have to be quick, Junior, when the crowbar is out of his leg wrap with a towel. Rest of you hold him down,” Cliff ordered, and everyone nodded in approval. 

Without a warning, Cliff poured a bunch of gin over both of Kirk’s wounds. Kirk let out a bloody scream, his back arching and his whole body shaking violently. Scott, James and Dave held Kirk down, pushing forcefully and every one of his limbs as the stinging pain in his calve faded. 

“A warning next time would be great!” Dave called out and Cliff sighed.

“That was the whole point. Okay, now I’m gonna pull it out. Ready?”

“No, wait,” Dave said, letting go of Kirk’s shoulders to undo his belt. Kirk tilted his head back and gave Dave a weird stare, like everyone else in the room. The ginger took his belt out and folded it in two, putting it up against Kirk's lips.

“Open and bite down. ‘Tis gonna hurt like a bitch and we don’t want to ruin those pearls do we, princess?” Dave said, pulling off his devilish smirk. Kirk lifted his head and took the edge of the belt and bit down. Setting his head back down, Kirk closed his eyes, waiting for what’s to come.

Dave put his hands back on Kirk’s shoulders, pressing down and sending Cliff a nod. Cliff looked around the other four guys and they all gave him a yes. 

“On three. One, two,” Cliff froze, setting his hand one hand on the bent claw of the crowbar and the other holding at Kirk’s ankle. Taking a deep breath, he said, “three,” and started pulling the crowbar from the side it was stabbed through. 

Immediately Kirk tensed up, trying to thrash around away from Cliff so he could make the pain stop. James, Dave and Scott held him down, trying as hard as possible to block out Kirk’s screams and cries. 

Cliff pulled the crowbar out from the entry wound in a slow pace. Not too slow to torture Kirk more than he already is, but not too fast to cause even more damage to his leg. Cliff caught a glimpse of Kirk, the smaller man thrashing up against James, Dave and Scott. He was screaming at the top of his lungs through the belt, tears running down his cheeks. Now he reconsidered drugging Kirk to the point the smaller man was completely numb. 

Junior watched the crowbar slowly made its way out Kirk’s calve, bracing himself for Cliff to pull it out completely so he could wrap the towel around it. But Cliff didn’t pull the crowbar out completely. He stopped right before the straight claw, his hand remaining on the shaft to keep the weight balanced. 

“Why’d you stop?” James asked, trying to keep Kirk’s good leg at bay. Another fear struck through Cliff’s head, making his throat feel tight.

Cliff looked between Kirk and leg and James, stuttering over his own words. “I-I don’t-I don’t know if...I-if I pull the crowbar out it might cause damage to his leg. The-the straight claw might cause damage to his nerves. O-on the calves, muscles are tighter to each other and if I pull the straight claw out it might rip the gastrocnemius and then his leg will be useless below the knee,” Cliff explained. 

“Just...pull it out fast enough that it won’t cause any damage to his leg,” Dave suggested, pushing Kirk down when the brunette tried to get a look at his leg. 

Cliff shook his head, “I can’t do that! The crowbar has been in his leg, between the muscles, for almost half an hour. I don’t know whether or not his gastrocnemius muscles and nerves have adjusted and wrapped around the crowbar. I don’t know how fast or slow to pull it out without ripping any nerves or muscles. And if I do cause damage, if I rip just one tiny nerve he could lose his leg.” Cliff was on the verge of breaking down in tears. His hands were shaking around the crowbar shaft and Kirk’s ankle. 

“I can’t live with myself knowing I paralyzed his leg because I pulled the crowbar out too fast or too slow. I can’t take it out,” Cliff confessed. His voice sounded on edge and tears started to blur his vision. He couldn’t live with himself knowing he was the reason Kirk lost his leg because he didn’t remove the crowbar too fast or too slow. 

“We can’t just leave the crowbar in his leg,” Scott said, looking at Cliff who was shaking like a leaf. 

“I know, but I can’t take it out,” Cliff repeated.

Dave just nodded, letting Kirk’s shoulders go. “Then I’ll take it out,” he said, rolling up his sleeves and standing beside Cliff. 

Dave was fine with taking the crowbar out, no matter what the outcome was for Kirk. He didn’t know the kid at all, already hated his guts for replacing him and he wouldn’t be as hurt as the rest of the guys if Kirk lost a leg. He wasn’t the one who stabbed the crowbar in him in the first place, so if something bad did happen, he wouldn’t blame himself like Cliff or the rest of the guys would. 

“Okay,” Cliff whispered, moving to the side so Dave would have room to move around if he needed to. Dave wrapped one hand around the shaft of the crowbar and the other placing it on Kirk’s knee, spreading his leg slightly. Junior stood beside him with the towel, ready to wrap it around Kirk’s calf the minute the crowbar was out. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Cliff said.

Dave flashed a look at James and Scott, indicating that he was ready. With a small squeeze of Kirk’s knee, Dave tore the crowbar out from Kirk’s leg. A scream, louder than the others, erupted from Kirk. The brunette's back arched violently, slamming his head back against the table repeatedly as the pain from his leg pumped through his whole body. 

Junior quickly folded the towel around Kirk’s freed leg, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Dave moved away, holding the bloody crowbar tight. Cliff quickly disinfected Kirk’s leg again with the gin, pulling another gorry cry from Kirk. 

“Apply pressure to one end,” Cliff ordered Junior, getting the needle and thread ready so he can start the stitches. 

Once Kirk calmed down a bit and his screams died down, Cliff started the stitches on one side. Poking the needle through Kirk’s skin, pulling it through and tying it off. He soon fell into a smooth rhythm, poke, stitch, tie off.

James put his hand on Kirk’s sweaty forehead, holding his head down to stop him from banging it on the table. James was taken aback by how warm Kirk’s forehead was. 

“Guys, Kirk’s really hot,” James announced, pressing the back of his palm on Kirk's forehead. 

Dave looked up and gave James a weird look. “We know your boyfriend is pretty, but you don’t have to rub it into our faces,” the ginger sassed. 

James just rolled his eyes at that, “No, you dipshit. I mean his forehead is really hot, like his body is really really warm. Also did you just admit to finding Kirk attractive?” the blonde teased, smirking when Dave had nothing to say. 

Cliff snapped his head up, stopping the stitches. “Wait, his forehead is warm?” 

James nodded, ignoring Dave who was flipping him off, “Yeah, like, he’s fucking boiling,” he informed the rest, pressing the back of his palm gently on Kirk’s cheek, feeling the warmth of the brunettes skin. 

“Shit,” Cliff cursed under his breath, finishing up with the stitches on Kirk’s leg quickly. He wrapped the towel around Kirk’s calve again, ordering Junior to hold it down while he went to look at Kirk. 

Cliff stalked to Kirk’s side, pushing Dave out the way and gingerly putting his hand on Kirk’s forehead. James was right, Cliff thought. The brunette's skin was red and feverish. Bullets of sweat were running down his whole body, heavy bags under his irritated eyes, probably from all the crying. There were tears drying on his face and a thin line of blood running down the side of his face from the cut on his eyebrow. The lithe brunette was panting, trying desperately to catch his breath as he was slowly losing his consciousness. Kirk looked like an absolute train wreck, like he was about to pass out any second. 

With shaky hands, Cliff grabbed the old thermometer from the med-kit. He gently removed the belt from Kirk’s mouth, taking note of the fact that there were teeth marks on the belt 'because of how hard Kirk was biting down. Gently he slipped the thermometer past Kirk’s lips and let the tip sit under his tongue. 

“Fever?” Dave asked, setting the bloody crowbar on one of the bookshelves behind him. 

Cliff nodded, counting to 60 seconds in his head so he can remove the thermometer. 

They all waited in silence for the 60 seconds to pass so Cliff could tell them Kirk’s temperature. 

Once the 60 seconds were done, Cliff pulled the thermometer out and looked at the number in had reached at, nearly dropping it.

“What?” James asked. Cliff’s head was spinning too much to read the number out loud so he just handed James the thermometer. 

The blonde gasped, “41?” he nearly yelled. Junior just let his mouth hang open and Scott looked like he was about to cry. 

“Kirk’s gonna die isn’t he?” Scott piped up, mentally flinching from how his voice was cracking. 

Cliff looked at the ground and shut his eyes, trying to get the thought of Kirk dying from the fever out of his head. “No! I just need to finish his stitches and he’ll be fine,” he lied to everyone, including himself. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t know what to do. He was panicking, the worst thing he could be doing right now. 

Cliff shook his head and made his way back to Kirk’s leg, starting the stitches on the other side of the wound. He tried not to rush, trying to keep the stitches close to each other and do as many as possible so it would hold Kirk’s wound closed. 

Beneath him, Kirk was squirming, small pained groans escaping his lips. The only thing at the moment keeping him awake was the pain of Cliff stitching his leg. 

James and Scott weren’t even holding Kirk down anymore. The brunette's whole body had gone limp so there was no need. When Cliff finished with the stitches on both sides, he cut strips of one of the towels with the bayonet. He holded wrapped them around Kirk’s calf, using them as if they were gauze. 

Cliff looked down at Kirk’s dressed wound, hoping it was good enough to help it start healing. 

The bassist made his way back to Kirk’s side, trying to think of what to do to cool down the fever. 

“Cliff?” Junior spoke up.

“Ya?”

“Shouldn’t we give Kirk like a cold bath, you know, to mend the fever down?” he suggested.

Cliff shook his head like a bubble-head, thinking it was the best idea that they had for now. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Someone go see if the water is still running in this place,” Cliff ordered, starting to strip Kirk from his leather jacket. 

“‘Kay I’ll do that,” Dave informed, grabbing the baseball bat and making his way down the hall and into the bathroom. 

Kirk was barely awake as Cliff stripped his jacket off. He helped the smaller man sit up on the table, trying to get his sweaty shirt off of him. 

“Wait!” They heard Dave yell from down the hall as he made his way back in the library. “There’s no water running from the taps. Not this one or the one in the master suit, there’s no water running through anywhere,” the ginger informed, out of breath from running down the halls. 

“So what now? We need to bring the fever down,” Scott said and Dave shot him a look that said ‘yeah no shit Sherlock’. 

“The medicine maybe?” Junior suggested. Cliff shrugged, picking up the other unidentified bottles. He opened them both and smelled them. The labels were worn off after all this time and Cliff couldn’t tell what the other two bottles of medicine were. 

He had to do something, Kirk was only getting worse. His hair was sticking to his sweaty skin. His skin was pale and sweaty, lying motionless on the table. If Kirk wasn’t panting like he had just run a marathon then Cliff would have thought Kirk was dead. 

James, Dave, Scott and Junior watched as Cliff put the two bottles of medicine and picked up the one with the liquefied cocaine. 

“Cliff what are you doing?” James asked puzzled.

Cliff ignored James’ question and looked at Junior over his shoulder. “Can you disinfect the syringe?” it sounded more like an order than a request.

Without a word Junior did so, giving Cliff the disinfected syringe. He unscrewed the lid of the bottle and put the tip of the syringes’ needle in, slowly extracting someone the liquid and into the tube of the syringe. 

“Hold on a minute. Before you said if we injected him with the coke he would die because his body is weak or whatever. Now he looks even worse and you-you’re…” Dave trailed off, pointing at the syringe in Cliff’s hands. 

“It’s the only choice I have to bring the fever down before it causes brain damage and his system starts shutting down,” Cliff explained, turning back to Kirk and laying the lightheaded man back down. 

“But aren’t you going to kill him if you inject that into his blood system?” Scott asked on the verge of breaking down in tears. 

Cliff looked up at Scott with teary eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I don’t know,” he confessed, “I might, I might not. I-I hope I don’t,” And if I do kill him at least he won’t feel it. Cliff thought to himself. He hated that this was their reality. He wished this was just a bad dream. A bad dream he could wake up from where Kirk’s life didn’t lie in his hands. 

Cliff turned back to Kirk, with shaky hands bracing the needle on top on the vein of Kirk’s left forearm. He gently held Kirk’s wrist with one hand, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of Kirk’s hand, trying to reassure both of them. He flashed Kirk a small sad smile before he pierced the smaller man’s skin with the needle and slowly injected the substance into his body. Kirk let out a choked up moan, surprised by the sharp pain on his forearm. But that pain went quickly away as he fell into unconsciousness, his head rolling limply to the side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time I updated. I wanted to get this up on Halloween but my online school and mental sanity said 💕no💕
> 
> Sorry it took over two months to update, this was like 6500 words so I hope I get the next one up soon within a couple of days.


	5. When the Eagle Cries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back outside, everyone was standing at least 15 meters away from the door. 
> 
> “We’re ready!” Dave yelled letting Junior know that they were a safe distance away from the door. 
> 
> “So am I!” Junior yelled back, positioning himself properly to shoot the gun. 
> 
> He aimed at the grenade and uncocked the gun, pulling the trigger and making a loud bang echo through the air and then an explosion.

James, Dave, Junior and Scott watched as Kirk slowly fell unconscious, the smaller man’s chest slowly rising and falling. Cliff set the needle down and slowly backed away from Kirk laying on the table. His breathing was shaky and looked like he was about to pass out any second.

“What now?” Junior asked, looking between Kirk and Cliff.

“Wait to see when he wakes up and if the fever is down,” Cliff explained, whipping his bloody hands on one of the extra towels. The stitches on Kirk’s leg seemed to be holding up tightly, since there was no blood running through the towel on his leg.

“Yeah...uhm we need to-to you know...talk about what the hell that thing was back there,” Dave whispered.

James scoffed, “No shit, what the fuck was that?” 

Junior shook his head. “I don’t know. But whatever that thing was it’s dangerous, I mean you saw what it did to Kirk.”

Scott nodded, leaning back on the wall, “Then what do we do? We can’t leave, every exit is locked from the outside, if Kirk survives the fever he won't be able to walk properly and the fucking Devil is after us!” Scott almost yelled, trying to keep his voice down. 

“That’s not the only thing we have to worry about,” Cliff spoke up. 

Everyone looked over at him. “What are you talking about?” James asked, confused.

Cliff sighed, tensing up. “There...down stairs beside the kitchen there’s a room. It’s a-a tourture chamber and there’s a body rotting away in the bathtub,” Cliff confessed, watching as Scott’s mouth dropped open.

“What?” Scott asked, shocked at what Cliff was telling them.

“We know. We saw it when we first got here, it's like a hundred years old,” James informed.

“What!?” Scott snapped his head at James and asked again with even more shock.

“No, it’s not a hundred years old. It’s a lot younger than that. There was a watch on the corpse and on the back it says it was made, or sold, in 1977. And judging by the condition of the flesh and clothes, the body hasn’t been there for more than two years.” Cliff informed and everyone was left in shock with the new information Cliff was telling them.

“What?” James’ voice was barely above a whisper from his fear. 

All four of them were trembling, trying to take in the new information Cliff was giving them. 

“Can I see the watch?” Dave asked out of curiosity. Half of him didn’t want to believe what Cliff was saying, he wanted to see the ‘proof’ himself. 

Cliff nodded and grabbed his denim jacket, taking the old rusty watch out of it and handing it over to Dave. The ginger took it and examined it, looking closely at it. 

The rest of the guys just watched Dave waiting to see his reaction. 

Dave handed the watch back to Cliff, nodding his head. “Down the hall there's this room, the door is locked by something from the other side,” Dave informed Cliff and Scott, which were both confused as to why Dave was bringing this up.

“So? Many rooms in here are locked from the inside,” Scott asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“The room reeks like gunpowder, you can smell it by standing outside the door. There’s this vent that leads into the room but it's too high up and it's small. Dave and I tried to push Junior up there but we couldn’t lift him that high up. Now that Scott and Kirk are here, we could boost one of the two up there, see what's in there, if there is anything useful like guns then get him back out and boom. We got something stronger to defend ourselves,” James explained and Cliff nodded.

Cliff grabbed the musket from the book shelf and handed it to James. “The four of us will go to that room you guys said, you stay with Kirk and make sure he’s stable, if anything just...yell,” Cliff ordered James and James nodded, taking the musket and sitting beside Kirk on the table he was laying on. 

Without a world the four men walked to the room, Dave leading the way. They were all cautious when walking down the hall, making sure they didn’t make any noise, in case the beast was listening to them.

They stood in front of the door, all 4 looking up at the small vent that’s been popped up by probably Dave, Cliff assumed. 

“So, this is the little hole you guys want me to crawl in?” Scott joked, taking his leather jacket off. 

“Yup, okay now how do we lift him up there?” Cliff asked looking up at the vent that was high up, at least 4 meters up.

Junior just shrugged and chuckled, “Dude you’re like 6 feet tall, can't you just put Scott on your shoulders then throw him up there?”

“Dude I’m tall, not a fucking giant,” Cliff chuckled.

“No, let’s try that, try sitting Scott on your shoulders,” Dave suggested. Cliff nodded, turning his back on Scott so the smaller man could climb on his shoulders. 

Scott tried getting on Cliff’s shoulders but the bassist was too tall and he wasn’t strong enough to lift himself on Cliff, which left him grinding against the other man's back.

“Nope. I’m too fat for that,” Scott sighed, getting off of Cliff’s back. “What if you put your head between my legs and then got up?” he suggested.

Cliff raised his eyebrows at the words that came out of Scott’s mouth. Junior and Dave were trying to hold back their laughter because of the dumb shit Scott said.

It took Scott a second to realize what he said. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

“Want me to blow you as well while I’m down there?” Cliff jokes, walking behind Scott. That pushed Junior and Dave over the edge and they broke out giggling.

“Oh come on you assholes, you know what I meant!” Scott defended himself, feeling embarrassed. 

“Okay, okay come on...uhm open your legs I guess,” Cliff said, making the other two Daves behind him burst into laughter again.

Scott did so, feeling embarrassed as hell. Cliff bent over behind Scott’s legs, pushing his head and neck between Scott’s legs.

“Ouch, shit my dick man!” Scott whined when Cliff tried to stand up.

“Stop whining, this was your idea,” Cliff snapped. Cliff tried standing up straight and to lift Scott off the ground, but there was too much weight on his neck and shoulders.

“Would you two back there stop giggling and help us for fucks sake!?” Cliff snapped at Dave and Junior behind him. The two held one of Cliff’s shoulders and Scott’s leg, helping Cliff stand up straight with the weight of Scott on his shoulders.

“Jesus Christ, when we get back to America you and the rest of the Anthrax guys are going on diets!” Cliff said annoyed, trying to ignore the ache on his shoulders. 

“Oh, shut up! James eats twice as much as I do and you don’t bitch about him!” Scott defended.

“But James doesn’t pack 50 pounds with every meal like you do!”

“Are you trying to fat shame me Burton?!”

“Will you two shut up!” Junior snapped at them to stop their bickering. 

Dave chuckled, “Just, Scott try to stand up on Cliff’s shoulders,”

Scott grunted, lifting up on leg and putting it on Cliff’s shoulder. He shipped his weight to his leg so he could stand up but stopped when Cliff started yelling, “Stop, stop, stop! You’re gonna break my fucking shoulders!” 

Cliff lowered himself and set Scott back on the ground. He rubbed his sore shoulders, moving his arms around to relax the tense muscles. 

“Uhm, maybe if we boosted him up with our hands?” Junior suggested. 

Dave nodded. “Okay, Cliff will go on each side and you stand in front of him for support,” the ginger said. 

Cliff went back to Scott’s side and Dave mirrored him. The both made a cupping motion with their hands, lowering them enough so Scott would be able to step on them like stools. Scott grabbed on to Dave’s shoulder and put his left foot in Dave’s hands. He lifted his weight again and quickly put his other foot on Cliff’s hands. He was now lifted off the ground and being held up by the other two men, left in a weird crouching position. 

Junior went in front of Scott and helped him stand up straight. “Okay now try to lift me up,” Scott suggested, which earned him a few eye rolls.

“Easier said than done,” Dave muttered, grunted as him and Cliff lifted Scott’s feet all the way to the height level of their necks. Scott used the wall to lean himself on it so he could stand up properly, since Junior was now too short to help him. 

“Can you reach the vent!?” Cliff called out. He couldn’t see what Scott was doing up there because the other man’s body was blocking his view.

“No. Almost, just a little higher,” Scott said. The vent was a few centimetres away from his reach. If he could grab it he could easily climb inside. 

Dave and Cliff grunted, lifting Scott higher, right above their heads. Junior watched with anxiety, watching his friend being lifted immaturely and at a dangerous height. One wrong move and he could fall and break something. 

“I got it!” Scott announced, grabbing the ledge of the vent and lifting himself on it. 

“Thank God,” Dave muttered, feeling relieved as the weight got lifted off his arms. Scott climbed inside the vent, only stopping half way. Scott moved his feet around in the air, desperately trying to give himself some sort of boost to push himself further into the vent.

“Guys!”

“What now!?” Dave called out from beneath, sounding irritated. 

“My butt is too big to fit through the vent!” Scott complained. Dave just glared up at Scott’s ass. Half his body was hanging limply from the vent, looking like a scene from Scooby-Doo. 

“You’re kidding!?” Cliff scoffed. Great, that was all for nothing. 

“No, I’m being completely serious, my butt won't go further into the vent,” Scott said, sounding frustrated. 

Junior just sighed, “Guys for fucks sake he doesn’t fit! Let’s just get him back down before he hurts himself,”   
  
Dave grunted, going back underneath Scott to grab his feet. Cliff did the same and they tried to slowly lower Scott to the ground but he slipped out of Dave’s grasp and fell on to Cliff. They both hit the ground with a grunt, slamming their limbs against each other. 

“Fucking shit,” Cliff cursed, getting up and rubbing his back. 

“So what now?” Scott asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“You’re going on a fucking diet if we get out of here alive!” Dave yelled, crossing his arms over his chest angrily.

“What if we boost Junior up?” Scott suggested.

“No way in hell we’re doing that!” Junior snapped before anyone had the chance to answer.

“Come on lets try, you’re skinnier than Scott so you’re gonna fit,” Dave said.    
  
Cliff and Dave did the same thing to lift Junior up into the vent, only this time it was easier because Junior didn’t even weigh much. This kind of concerned Dave, when they got out of this hell-hole and got back to America he needed to do something to make sure him and Junior had a stable roof over their heads and good food to eat. It was bad enough they were both skipping meals everyday, but Junior was skipping more meals than Dave and he seemed to really be affected by that since he didn’t weigh more than 58 kg. 

They easily lifted Junior up into the entrance of the vent and with ease he crawled in there on his elbows. 

Cliff frowned, a little concerned because of the weight of Junior. He knew Megadeth wasn’t as popular as Metallica and that Dave and his band were struggling with money but he didn’t know it was that much of a problem. And now that Cliff thinks about it Dave didn’t look that good himself either. The ginger had also dropped weight and there were heavy bags under his eyes. Cliff kept his mouth shut though, no matter how concerned he was for Dave and his friend they had to focus on getting out of there alive first. 

Junior crawled through the vent. Within a minute he had crawled through the vent and reached the room that reeked like gunpowder. The vent was already popped open so he could easily crawl out of there. The vent was tight and he could barely move around in it but he still made it through.

He poked his head through the ledge, using the bookshelf that was up against the wall as a ladder to get down safely. 

Dave and James were right, the room was filled with guns and gunpowder, as well as bullets. New guns. Junior went up to one of the table stands and picked up one of the rifles. It seemed brand new, no marks on it and the handle and butt smelled like leather, completely untouched. He look at the rest of the guns, noticing that they were military weapons. If that wasn't a red flag about this room then Junior didn't know what was.

“Jun?” he heard Dave yell from the other end of the door.

“Ya?”

“Can you open the door?” Dave asked, a little impatient. Junior put the rifle down and ran over to the door. There wasn’t anything locking it. It wasn’t bolted, there wasn’t anything heavy blocking the door and it wasn’t chained shut. Worst of all the door handle was broken so the door couldn’t have been locked with a key.

Junior looked around the door, maybe something else was keeping it locked. There wasn't though. He grabbed the handle and pulled, and like expected the door didn’t budge. 

This wasn’t making sense. This wasn’t physically possible. Him, Dave and James rammed into the door all together and it didn’t budge and there wasn’t anything keeping it shut. How was this possible?

“Junior!” Dave called out, snapping him out of his thoughts. “What are you doing in there?”

Junior just shook his head, his stomach feeling sick. “Dave the door isn’t locked,” he said, loud enough for the others to hear. 

“What?” he heard Cliff ask Dave. 

“Junior, is there something blocking the door then? Like a bookshelf or-”

“No, Dave!” Junior yelled, feeling frustrated and weak. “There’s nothing keeping the door locked or blocked. The door handle is broken, it's not locked but it-it won’t fucking move,” he said, on the verge of breaking down in tears because of how scared he was.

“Break the door handle off, like completely. Rip it off the door,” Dave told him to do. Junior went back and grabbed the rifle. He could hear the other guys whispering to one another. He took the neck of the rifle and hit the butt on the broken door handle twice before the thing fell off, chipping the wood. 

From the other side, when Dave heard the door handle hit the floor he yelled “Stand back” and kicked the door. After a couple of kicks he got tired and stopped. There wasn’t any damage done to the door, only Dave’s dirty foot print. 

Now everyone was panicking. Dave looked at Cliff for help, he seemed to be just and confused and scared as the rest of them.

“Listen to me Junior, just grab 6 guns, climb out the vent and get out of there,” Scott said, waiting for Junior to respond. 

“Okay,” they heard and some shuffling. Then they heard a silence. Then a choked up sob. 

“Jun,” Dave called out. The only response they heard was Junior’s sobbing. 

“Junior, try to get yourself under control. If you panic it won’t help you. It’s fine, drop the guns and just get out of there,” Cliff told him. It only made Junior sob even harder and he started mumbling something. 

“David listen to me!” Dave yelled. He didn’t get a response, just more sobbing.

Dave had enough. “Boost me in there I’ll go get him,” Dave said but stopped dead in his tracks. He looked at where the vent was on the wall before and now it wasn’t. 

Dave’s blood ran cold and he felt dizzy. 

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!” Scott cursed pacing around the small hallway. 

"Jesus Christ," Cliff whispered, just looking at the wall, where the vent used to be. Yes, used to be because it isn’t there anymore. It just disappeared out of thin air. This wasn’t making any sense. Nothing was. Junior was now in possible danger and they needed to get him out of there. 

Cliff went back to the door and leaned against it, trying to hear what was going on in the room. There was only the sound of Junior crying, which was kind of good because it meant he was alone and there wasn’t anyone to hurt him. 

“Junior, I need you to tell me if there is any other sort of exit in the room. Like a window or another vent,” Cliff asked. He heard sniffling come from Junior. 

“Th-there are no windows but there’s this heating system in the corner of the room a-and it’s making weird noises,” Junior explained. His voice was shaky and it sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down in tears again. 

Dave rushed over to Cliff’s side, listening to Junior. 

“Okay, just stay away from the heating system and tell us if anything is happening. We’ll get you out man just hang in there,” Cliff suggested, looking at Dave concerned.

“Jun, you’ll be fine. I’ll go get the crowbar and be right back, keep talking with Cliff and Scott, alright?” Dave waited for a response. 

He got back a weak and quite “Alright”.

Dave stood up and sprinted down the hall and into the library. He opened the door to the little room to see Kirk sitting up on the table and talking to James. They both snapped their heads over at Dave but relaxed when they realized it was just Dave. 

“Hey, where are the guys?” James asked, worrying when he saw Dave looking around the room like a madman. “Dave what's going on?” he said in a more serious voice. 

“I need to break down a door, where’s the crowbar?” Dave asked, not answering James’ question.

“Right here. Dave what the hell is going on?” James asked again as he handed the crowbar to Dave. 

Dave didn’t say a word, he just grabbed the crowbar and ran down the hall again. He was so close to crying, but he wasn’t going to let himself do it. He loved Junior as if he was his little brother. He wasn’t about to let his little bro get hurt or killed, he couldn’t bear with himself if something happened to Junior. He would take all the blame for it. Junior was his responsibility and he needed to protect him and be with him. Right now he wasn’t with him, He was locked outside of Junior and that meant if something happened in that room he couldn’t protect the person he loved. 

That was Dave’s problem, when he gets attached to someone he can’t let them go. He can’t let Junior out of his sigh, especially right now. He wanted to be in control of the situation, make sure everyone was safe. Most importantly Junior since he was the only person right now he cared more than anyone.

Dave ran back and stood in front of the door. “Junior, get away from the door. And if you hear banging it’s just me so don’t be scared,” Dave explained. Cliff stood up and got out the way, letting Dave do what he had to do. 

Dave took the short claw and put it between the door and it’s frame. Since the door opened inwards he was gonna have to push to the left. He positioned himself and started pushing with his body weight. 

Cliff and Scott saw that Dave was struggling so they went over and helped. Cliff went beside Dave and pushed while Scott went in front of them and pulled towards himself. 

The door wasn’t moving but it was creaking which meant this was working, until through all of their force the crowbar bent in the middle and caused the guys to fall to the ground. 

Dave cursed and picked himself up, grabbing the crowbar and holding it like an axe. If he couldn’t pry the door open to get to Junior then he was going to rip it to shreds. 

Back inside the small gun room, Junior was sitting on the floor, hugging his knees. He was trying to keep himself under control and not to break down in tears again. He was so scared, he felt so isolated and alone and he hated it. He wanted to be with Dave. He wanted to be with his mom. 

Tears filled Junior’s eyes now that he remembered his mom. He promised her he and Dave would go to Minnesota for Easter in two weeks, but now that seemed impossible. He wasn’t ready to die, there were so many things in life he wanted to do and he wasn’t ready to go. He was scared that the beast would show up and rip him to shreds like it tried doing to Kirk. He was so scared of dying. He also didn’t want to leave Dave alone. The past year all they’ve had was each other and right now he didn’t want to leave Dave alone. 

He fidgeted with the ring around his ring finger, the one his grandma gave him. He swirled it around his finger, trying to imagine that his grandma was watching over him and protecting him. That seemed to calm Junior, until he heard something slam against the door. It made Junior practically jump out of his skin but the banging continued. 

It must have been Dave trying to figure a way to get him out. Junior gripped the ring tighter, trying to desperately not listen to the sound of the crowbar banging against the door.

Outside, Dave was using the short claw of the crowbar to chip the wood off the door. It would take a while but at least he was doing something. 

Hearing the banging, James grabbed Kirk and helped him walk towards the others. Dave never told them what was going on so they were both worried but also scared. They all just stared at Dave who was attacking the door with the crowbar, slowly chipping more and more wood off of it. 

James walked over to Cliff. “What the fuck is going on?” he asked, his voice on edge.

“We got Junior in the room but-” Cliff froze. How was he going to explain this? 

“But?” Kirk asked.

Cliff sighed. “We got him through the vent but the vent is gone, the door won’t open no matter what so Dave is gonna tear the door down,” he explained and James looked even more confused. 

“The vent is gone!?” 

“Look,” Cliff pointed to where the vent was before, “do you see it? Because none of us do,”

James just stared at the blank wall. Now he felt sick and even more scared then before. 

“Oh my god,” James gasped, looking back at Dave who was still trying to tear the door down. 

Cliff looked at Kirk, who now seemed to start panicking.

“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Cliff soothed, putting a hand on Kirk’s shoulder but the curly haired man just shook his head. 

“No, no, it won’t be okay. That thing is gonna use its powers on us and it’s going to kill us all. Cliff it’s going to kill us all,” Kirk cried in fear. Instead Cliff just hugged the smaller man, trying to calm him down.

“Kirk, it’s not going to kill anyone, I promise you. Right now your head isn’t thinking straight because of the cocaine and fever, just try to relax,” Cliff said, rubbing circles on Kirk’s back and letting the younger man rest his head on his chest. He put the back of his palm on Kirk's forehead, revealed that his temperature was going down. 

Dave stopped hitting the door with the crowbar, giving his hands a break. If he kept this up for a few more minutes he might poke a little hole through the middle of the door, so it’ll be easier for him to chip the wood. 

“Dave, I can do it for a bit,” James suggested, going to grab the crowbar from Dave’s hands but the ginger pulled back. 

“No, it’s fine I got it,” he said out of breath. His skin was red and sweaty, making it look like he had a bad fever. 

Dave lifted the crowbar again ready to hit the door only he didn’t strike it. He just stared at the door in shock with his hands in the air. 

The marks and chips were gone. All the damage he did to the door was gone, and it just looked normal. Dave shook his head and rubbed his eyes, thinking that his eyes were playing a trick on him. He even reached out to stroke the wood on the door, feeling the soft surface of the oiled down wood. 

“Dave what the hell do we do?” James’ voice sounded weak and pathetic and the poor kid looked like he was about to cry. 

Dave just dropped the crowbar, walking up to the door and leaning his back against the door frame. He slowly sank to his knees, feeling powerless and hopeless. He couldn’t help Junior, no matter what he did, nothing worked. Whatever he tried to do to get Junior out of there didn’t work. 

The door won’t open no matter what, the vent is gone and there is some sort of entity keeping Junior locked in there. 

“Dave do something please,” Scott pleaded, which made Dave feel more powerless but also angry.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried!?” Dave snapped up at Scott. “Scott I tried everything I could do! If we had better weapons to use I would have used them!” Dave yelled, slamming his head against the door frame. Maybe they could find an axe? But whatever fixed the door is gonna fix it again anyways. 

"If I tried anything else whatever _thing_ is doing this is just going to fix the door again," Dave explained, sounding defeated.

Scott backed away, his hands resting on the top of his head as he tried to think of something. 

Junior heard what Dave yelled at Scott, now feeling even more scared than before. He slowly stood up and walked up to the door then sat back down, leaning against it. 

“Davie?” Junior called out, letting a couple of tears run down his cheeks. 

“Yes Jun?”

“I don’t want to die yet,” he admitted, more tears falling down his cheeks. 

Dave didn’t respond, he just put his head back, trying to stop the tears from falling. 

Junior kept talking, “Davie I want to see my mom again,”

Hearing Junior’s voice break over his words made a tear slip out of the ginger’s eye. He was quick to wipe it away though. He didn’t want the others to see him crying, even though it was too late for that. 

_ I should say something to him _ . Dave thought to himself. He had to say something to give Junior some hope. 

Dave swallowed the lump on his throat. “I know Jun. I know, I want to see my mom as well. I promise you I’ll take you to your mom the second we get out of this hell-hole. Just hang in there,” Dave pleaded, trying to think of an alternative. 

Junior just nodded, remembering Dave couldn’t see him so he just said a weak “Okay,”

Something clicked in Dave’s head. “Junior, are there shotguns in there?” he asked.

Junior looked up at the table with the guns, taken aback with what Dave was asking. He went along with it though, hoping that Dave had a plan. 

He stood up and looked around for any shotguns but found something way better.

“Jun?”

“Dave you won’t believe it,” Junior laughed, feeling glimpses of hope of getting out of that room. 

“What?” Dave was anxious and curious about what Junior found.

“There’s grenades,” he said.

Cliff arched his eyebrows in shock, struck out that there were grenades in the room. 

“Are you being serious right now?” Dave found it a little hard to believe, since grenades were usually hard to come around and used by the military, especially in England. What are grenades doing in this house?

“I’m being dead serious. These are F1's! Stand back, I’ll blow up the door,” Junior said, setting one of the grenades on the ground in front of the door. He grabbed as many guns and bullets as he could and put them all in the 3 duffel bags. Throwing the duffel bags over his shoulders he loaded up one of the hand guns. He pushed himself up against the wall across the grenade, thinking it’ll be safer for him to shoot the grenade from across the room. If he shot it it would still blow up, even if he didn’t pull the ring off. 

Back outside, everyone was standing at least 15 meters away from the door. 

“We’re ready!” Dave yelled letting Junior know that they were a safe distance away from the door. 

“So am I!” Junior yelled back, positioning himself properly to shoot the gun. 

He aimed at the grenade and uncocked the gun, pulling the trigger and making a loud bang echo through the air and then an explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one:  
> Me coming back to update after being dead for 3 months: ✌️😜
> 
> also im gonna use the metric system because im european and yall americans are weird with your feet and yards


End file.
